


Three Hot Chocolates

by parcequelle



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: F/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 13:01:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10719837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parcequelle/pseuds/parcequelle
Summary: How Will and Deanna got from 'yuck' to the bathtub. (Missing scenes fromInsurrection.)





	Three Hot Chocolates

Deanna doesn’t know what’s come over her. It’s as though she has abandoned every particle of self-restraint she’s ever possessed, as though she’s phasered down every carefully constructed wall that stood between them.

Will kisses her and she says yuck, because it’s always been easier to push him away and keep his friendship than to face head-on the intensity of their feelings. Will kisses her and she says yuck, because his eyes are soft and his lips are warm but he has a beard that tickles her skin like a hundred tiny caterpillar legs. Will kisses her and she says yuck, because she wants to say _yes_ and _come closer_ , because she wants to say _wait_.

Seeking clarity, she returns to her quarters to replicate a cup of hot chocolate and think the whole thing through. She tucks her legs up beneath her on the couch and makes up her mind to stay right here until she can make sense of what’s going on, Ba'ku radiation notwithstanding. She’ll confront Will, she thinks, as soon as she’s done. She’ll sit him down and ask him to tell her how he’s feeling and where he stands. If he knows.

Three minutes later, she has to admit that this situation is almost entirely her own doing. She realises, with a touch of dismay, that there is no way around the fact that _she_ started this, encouraged it. Wanted it and him. It was she who started flirting with him in the library, she who did that thing to his neck despite full and unimpaired knowledge of how he’d react. It was certainly she who conveniently forgot to discourage him from kissing her until he’d already done it and every nerve in her body was tingling.

I'm getting nowhere, she thinks. With a sigh, she places her empty cup on the table in front of her – she'll recycle it later – and taps her commbadge. ‘Troi to Doctor Crusher.’

‘Go ahead.’

‘Beverly, do you have plans for dinner?’

*

Tucked into a cosy corner table in Ten Forward, Deanna avails herself of the opportunity to vent. Beverly proves herself as patient and attentive a listener as ever, as supportive and non-judgmental a presence, as solid a friend.

‘So I thought,’ Deanna says, ‘why not just relax and see where it goes? For all I know this could be…’ she hesitates.

Beverly leans forward, conspiratorial, eyebrow arched. ‘Fate?’ she asks.

‘Yes,’ Deanna says, when she realises it’s true. ‘I’d like to say I decided to throw caution to the wind and be spontaneous, for once, but the truth is, I wasn’t thinking much at all. It just happened.’

Beverly takes a sip of her Cardassian Sunrise and says, ‘That doesn’t seem to be a problem for you now. Not thinking.’

Deanna gives her a rueful look. ‘Indeed. I’ve been thinking a lot. Maybe Will and I were always going to end up back here at some point, and this planet has just sped up the process. Maybe I should be grateful for the chance to try again.’ She swirls the last of her hot chocolate around in her mug. ‘But maybe I should be careful. I have to consider the possibility that this is all the result of our exposure to the radiation, and our recklessness will come crashing down around us as soon as we leave the Briar Patch.’ She glances out the window, out to the planet. ‘Still, there’s a part of me that feels that the past few days have been worth it, regardless of whether our relationship is destined to last.’

They sit in silence for a while, considering. Finally, Beverly looks up and says, ‘You know what I think?’

‘Tell me.’

‘I think you’re worrying too much. I think you should go for it.’

Deanna blinks, unable to hide her surprise. ‘You do?’

‘He loves you, doesn’t he?’

Deanna nods.

‘And you love him.’

Not a question; Deanna nods again. She holds Beverly’s gaze for a long moment, brow furrowed, and then says, ‘Can it really be that simple?’

Beverly shrugs. ‘If you want it to be, then why not?’

*

Deanna is back in her quarters, nursing a third cup of hot chocolate and weighing the possible implications of her possible next move. Her conversation with Beverly has helped to clear her mind, if not display to her a definite or immediate course of action, but she is comfortable with the idea of analysing her thoughts a while longer, of making a truly informed decision in good time. Analysing is what she does best, after all; bargaining with cause and effect is where she thrives.

She senses him, of course, before she hears him outside the door, and is surprised even though she’s expecting it, filled with equal measures of fear and thrilled anticipation. Her hormones fly through her body, igniting her blood, alerting her every sense to his proximity and his movements and his mind. To his own anticipation, hot and alight through their bond.

The door buzzes and she tries to stop pacing, tries to look calm as she answers.

‘Hi,’ he says, when his grinning face and cocked eyebrow are revealed. ‘Am I interrupting?’

He is looking at her like he’s the one who can read her emotions, smile knowing, and she smiles back. He’s still standing there, braced in the doorway, and she finds her voice and says, ‘Of course not. Come in. I was just having a little hot chocolate.’ 

He grins at her, right at her, and she feels herself flush.

‘Would you like some?’

He is staring at her, and a weighted moment passes before he responds. ‘Some…?’

‘Hot chocolate?’ Now Deanna smirks, and it’s satisfying to see the way his pupils instantly widen, to feel the rush of arousal flowing between their minds.

‘Uh,’ Will says, and clears his throat. ‘No, no thank you.’

‘Are you sure?’ Deanna asks. She sets her cup aside and saunters over to him, relishes the way his body sways toward her as though of its own accord. ‘It’s worth it.’

She stops just in front of him, tilts a smile up at him that he returns. He reaches out, slides a large, warm hand through her hair, massaging gently, and then brings it down to cup the base of her neck. ‘I don’t want hot chocolate,’ he murmurs. She arches into his touch, hooks one hand up into his collar. He turns his head and kisses her fingers, murmurs, ‘But I know what I do want. What about you?’

He doesn’t move, eyes on hers, as he waits for her answer. She thinks fleetingly of the wisdom of rehashing old history, of the radiation; she thinks even more fleetingly of the chain of command. She thinks about what Beverly said; about the warmth of Will’s intention, his love for her pulsing honest and unburdened. She leans up, presses into him, and says in his ear, ‘I want this.’

He grins and kisses her, hoists her up the way he used to fifteen years ago, and carries her into her bedroom, confident steps it feels he was destined to take.

*

Later, lying twined together, marvelling at a show of stamina neither of them had expected, Deanna runs her fingers along his jawline and says, ‘I’m afraid we’re going to have to do something about this, though. I have enough stubble burn to last me a lifetime.’

Will laughs from his belly and wraps his arms tighter around her. Kisses her until she starts laughing, too. ‘I think I can live with that.’


End file.
